


Falling through the Cracks

by In_Dee



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dee/pseuds/In_Dee
Summary: A mission gone bad endangers two team members, leaving one fighting for his life and the other fighting against himself.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A new multi-chapter coming up. Have fun. Hope you enjoy :)

With the return of consciousness, pain crowded his whole being. He tried moving when a wave of pain rushed through him that was so intense it stole his breath and his coherence.

It took him several moments to understand that the low whining noise he heard came from him.

He forced himself to lie still, to stop any and all movement, and to please, please let the pain abate.

He’d felt pain before, but anything he’d experienced so far, being tortured, even being shot five times and waking up after that… nothing compared to _this_.

What the hell had happened to him?

Had he been shot again?

Had his foster father gone overboard and beat him with that rusty pipe like he’d done before?

Time lost all meaning as he lay there and wished for the pain to stop. Eventually, it abated to an almost bearable level. Not daring to move for the moment, fearing a repeat performance of before, Callen tried blinking his eyes open, but his right one wouldn’t obey. He frowned when he only saw grey and green blobs with his left. Trying unsuccessfully to blink his vision into focus, he let his eye close once more. Resting his head against the ground, he focused on breathing, on just _being_ for the moment.

His body demanded more air and he tried to breathe deeply. Sand or dust hit the back of his throat and he started coughing, pain exploding through his chest and robbing him yet again of any sense.

He tried to hold on to consciousness but the pain that swamped him was followed by a black cloud of nothingness that dragged him under.

Xxxxxxx

His instincts had been right. He’d thought that something fishy was going on, that somehow something had set them off. Not that it helped him much.

He fled through the shipping yard, hiding behind containers while listening for sounds of pursuit. One container looked like the other, but the sound of the water was getting louder, letting him know he was getting closer to the end of the road… hopefully not literally.

He knew his way around the water - preferably on top of a board, but he could also make do without. Despite that, he wasn’t sure if he had better chances to survive this by hopping into the ocean or trying to outrun his pursuers on dry land.

Deeks cursed under his breath when he stepped around the container and was confronted with one of his pursuers. Not wasting the moment of surprise in the other man’s expression, he pushed forward, tackling the guy and landing several blows that stunned his opponent.

The short scuffle seemed to alert his other pursuers though and he heard multiple sets of footsteps approaching from different directions. Landing another blow for good measure, he pushed up and sprinted forward, towards the sound of water. All other avenues were closed off for him. The decision had been made for him. He was being herded towards the water. He reached the railing just as the shouts behind him reached a crescendo.

Vaulting over the railing, he pushed forward, towards the edge of the quay. The distance down to the water would be considerable, but he would rather risk his neck in this jump than having his pursuers catch up with him. His chances were worse if they got their hands on him.

He made the last two steps to the edge of the quay in long leaps, pushing off for the jump while mentally calculating how to turn his body to improve his chances of survival when something slammed into his back, pitching him forward.

Pain burned bright and some part of his brain not only registered the pain, but compared it to previous experiences, letting him know that he had just been hit by a bullet. The shock of pain and surprise threw him off guard and his jump turned into more of a fall as he hurtled towards the water below.

The impact with the water surface was harsh, the speed of his fall pushing him deep under. The shock of cold-wet was instantaneous, luckily bringing him back to his senses. Forcing himself to disregard the pain in his back, thankful that the impact of the bullet hadn’t made him exhale so that he still had enough air in his lungs, Deeks pushed forward, away from the quay, remaining under the surface of the water and striking out so as to put as much distance between himself and his pursuers as he could. He doubted they would follow him into the water.

Moments later, he heard the dull impact of bullets striking the water around and behind him. He pushed on, ignoring the way his lungs were beginning to burn. In all his years of surfing, he’d developed a quite impressive lung capacity if he dare say so himself. He’d been wiped out often enough to know how to survive beneath the surface until he could orient himself and make his way back up. Inwardly, he compared those instants to now… and had to admit that he would prefer a wipe-out over this any day.

Bullets continued to strike the surface, by now just behind him as he out-swam the range of their guns and he made a split-second decision. They had blasted enough bullets into the water that he could have been hit. Ceasing all movement, he let his body float to the surface, turning his head away from where it could be seen and taking in a few shallow breaths. His messy hair would obscure his face, making it seem as if he was floating face down as he did his best to make a passable imitation of a dead body in the water. His survival probably hinged on how convincing his performance was.

He didn’t want his pursuers waiting for him on the opposite side of the port to where he planned to make his way and climb out of the water. Therefore playing dead was probably his best chance at getting away.

He heard the shouts behind him slowly fade away. He could practically feel their eyes on him as they waited to see if he would move again. He was out of their gun range, so he forced himself to stay still, knowing he didn’t have to fear another bullet in his back due to the distance between them... speaking of bullet wounds: it was starting to throb.

Deeks continued to wait, allowing the current to slowly move his body around. It was moving him away from where he wanted to go, but that couldn’t be helped. At the same time it was slowly turning him around so he could see where he had come from without moving his head, allowing him to see if anyone remained on the quay. Even in the dim light he could see that none of his pursuers was on the quay any longer. He gave it another few minutes, letting his eyes roam over the area to make sure that no one remained. Only when he was certain that no one was watching anymore, did he begin to move. Swearing softly when the wound in his back was making itself known, Deeks turned back to where he had been going, setting his eyes on the distant shore.

His strokes were growing shorter as he slowly covered the distance, pain burning through him and fatigue slowing him down. Deeks sighed in relief when he reached the rocky shore of Terminal Island. He staggered out of the water, gasping in both pain and exhaustion. Sitting down, he gave himself a few moments to rest, hanging his head.

He was dripping water - and possibly blood - onto the rocks and Deeks felt exhaustion pulling on him. His body demanded to rest, to be patched up and given something against the pain, but for the moment he couldn’t provide either of those things. To do that, he had to move first.

Gritting his teeth, Deeks pushed up, swaying dangerously until he got his balance back. He made his way up to the street. He followed the fence line, feeling somewhat stupid as he approached the guard house. He seriously hoped the Coast Guard base was manned at night. If not, he might consider a break and enter to get to a phone. The other option would be to go across the street to the Federal Correction Institute, but he would prefer the US Coast Guard over a prison.

Deeks sighed in relief when he stopped in front of the guard house and met the eyes of a surprised and astonished guard.

“Marty Deeks, Federal Agent,” he identified himself. Officially, he was still a cop, but considering he worked for a Federal Agency, he decided to go with that. He doubted he would be believed anyway considering he was dripping wet and his long hair was half obscuring his face. He probably looked more like an escaped inmate from the other side of the street than a respectable officer of the law… not that he ever looked like a respectable officer of the law, but anyway. “I need access to a phone.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed and he stood, his hand resting visibly on his gun. “Show me some ID.”

Deeks prided himself for refraining from rolling his eyes. “Lost it when I took a long walk off a short pier,” he sniped back before he could activate his brain to mouth filter. Callen and Sam would say he didn’t have a brain to mouth filter at all, but he actually did. It was just that… usually, Marty Deeks decided to forgo working with it.

Callen…

He internally shook his head and straightened.

“Look, man, I’m not here to give you trouble. I just need to call my team. If you don’t trust me, you make the call. They will verify my ID,” Deeks said evenly, his voice smoothing into a soothing tone.

The guard continued to watch him, obviously undecided on what to do.

Without breaking eye contact, Deeks rattled off the number to OSP, “please, make the call, Johnson,” he pleaded softly, using the man’s name that was displayed on a plaque on his uniform to forge a connection.

Slowly, the man reached for the phone. When he glanced up, Deeks repeated the number more slowly. He knew the wheels would start turning now. He could rest soon. As soon as he had briefed his team.

Shivering and swaying, he leaned against the guard house, appearing casual to the untrained eye when actually, the guard house was pretty much the only thing holding him up right now.

Xxxxxxx

The hour it took before the Challenger screeched to a halt in front of the guard house seemed way longer to him. The guard had provided a blanket, but had otherwise remained somewhat suspicious of him. Or he was just uncomfortable with having his nightly routine of _boring nothingness_ being broken by a wet and shivering man.

Sam was out of the car basically the moment the engine cut off. He approached the guard house with long strides, his ID visible in his outstretched hand. The guard opened the gate for him and Sam entered the guard house, his expression of worry growing even more profound when he set eyes on Deeks.

He glanced up and tried giving Sam a smile. The way the other man’s features tightened, he guessed it wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been.

“Callen?” he asked.

Sam shook his head. “We haven’t managed to locate him yet. Eric is working on it.”

Another car screeched to a stop outside and Deeks blearily glanced up, relief surging through him when he saw Kensi.

Sam gave the guard a nod. “She’s with us.”

“Deeks,” Kensi cried when she careened inside the small building. She enfolded him in a hug and he managed to suppress the wince of pain, relief burning brightly and counteracting the worst of the pain. “What happened?” she asked when she drew back, watching him.

Deeks sank back down into the chair he had been occupying before, his legs unable to hold him up. “Something was off,” he murmured, his head down, his eyes on the edges of the blanket that dangled from his shoulders, “we came to the container yard across Terminal Island for some shipment. Something felt off though, before we went there, but I wasn’t sure.” He sighed. “The others went to get the shipment, I started to follow but Dean held me back. They loaded the crates into the van. Suddenly I had three guns in my face. I have no idea how, but they made me.” He shook his head, still unclear of just how he had been made, how quickly everything had crumbled to ash. “Fought them off, ran, jumped off the quay into the water, swam here,” he reported shortly. Deeks glanced up. “Callen is still with them,” he implored quietly, knowing they would feel the same urgency as he did. “They left two days ago. Something about a secondary site they were setting up north. They never told me more. I don’t know where it could be.” He heard the rising panic in his voice, the way his voice wavered and shook.

“We’ll figure it out, Deeks,” Kensi said soothingly after sharing a brief glance with Sam. “Come on, we’ll take you back to Ops, then we’ll pick your brain for information.”

Deeks nodded and stood, swaying slightly but quickly catching his weight. He rolled his shoulders a little to get the blanket off, unable to reach up for it. Just by rolling his shoulders his vision grayed out briefly. Feeling was creeping back into him, overpowering the numbness of shock he had settled into.

Xxxxxxx

Sam reached for the blanket that still hung somewhat precariously on one of Deeks’ shoulders. He went to hand it over to the guard when he did a double-take, opening the fabric further. His eyes were drawn to a spot.

Blood.

Sam’s attention snapped over to Deeks, finally putting the pieces together. Their Detective had seemed out of it, but Sam had chalked it down to the shock of what had happened, of being made, the exhaustion after the adrenaline faded. Still, it didn’t fit with any previous experiences they’d had with Deeks. The man was always _there_ , focused and quick-witted. Whenever he had been recognized before, he had switched gears quickly and usually managed to salvage the operation, easily handling everything in the aftermath as well.

Now though, he had seemed withdrawn and exhausted.

Sam suddenly recognized that the withdrawn appearance was actually shock, his body shutting down after sustaining an injury.

He let go of the blanket and took Deeks by the arms, pushing him back down into the chair, meeting little resistance. Sam crouched down in front of him. “Where are you hurt, Deeks?” he asked, watching the Detective blink somewhat slowly and stupidly, as if trying to understand the words. Kensi sank down beside him, urgency tripling in her movements upon his question. “Help me get the jacket off,” he told her and together they peeled the dark jacket off his shoulders.

A low moan of pain escaped Deeks’ lips and Sam glanced over the Detective’s shoulder, hissing in sympathy and anger at the bloodstain on the shirt. He stood and looked at the US Coast Guard, biting back words of anger and frustration that the man hadn’t noticed anything off and had called an ambulance earlier. To be fair, they hadn’t noticed immediately either. “You got some scissors?”

The guard nodded shakily and stepped over to a container holding office supplies.

Kensi was talking quietly to Deeks who looked even paler than he had moments before. Shock and pain was obviously catching up with him, now that their attention was on his wound, now that he had backup and was safe with them.

Sam took the scissors and returned to his team mates. He put a hand on Deeks’ good shoulder and then reached for the still damp shirt, peeling it away and cutting it open. The wound was high on his right shoulder, obviously a bullet wound. It was still seeping blood, albeit sluggishly. He glanced at the front, seeing no exit wound. Sam cursed softly and turned to the guard. “Call an ambulance,” he directed. He glanced at Kensi, seeing the worry in her eyes. “Keep him talking,” he ordered her before he quickly left the guard house and sprinted to the Challenger for the first aid kit - well, Sam’s version of it, which was quite a bit modified compared to the regulation first aid kit that was sufficient to bandage a paper cut but not much more than that. He needed something to pack the wound. The current blood loss wasn’t too bad, but Deeks had probably already lost a fair amount of blood.

He tapped his ear wig when he reached the car. “Eric, Deeks has been shot. An ambulance is on the way. Notify Hetty.”

He distantly heard the “copy that,” but didn’t focus on it. Instead, he grabbed the first aid kit and returned inside, sinking back down beside Deeks. The younger man’s eyes were clouded with pain and his skin looked clammy.

“How bad?” Deeks asked quietly.

“No exit wound. Bullet is still lodged inside. It’s also still bleeding sluggishly. Your impromptu swim in the harbor will probably not have helped in preventing contamination,” Sam reported. “Be glad you didn’t have a shark nibble on you as an appetizer,” Sam teased gently, trying to distract and engage the younger man in banter. He opened the pads of gauze and gave Kensi a meaningful look, watching her shift her hands to Deeks’ upper arms in response. “Now, Deeks, keep breathing,” he told the other man and pressed the gauze to the bullet wound.

The pained yelp quickly faded into a moan as Deeks’ body curled forward to escape the pain. Kensi held him stable and upright while Sam kept the pressure on the wound. “Keep breathing through the pain,” he reminded the younger man who took a gulping breath in response.

“Yeah, no…” Deeks panted, “I’m good.”


	2. Chapter 2

When consciousness returned the next time, he held himself still.

Breathing hurt, the left side of his chest was on fire. He mentally tried to take stock, but the pain was sharp and intense all throughout his body.

Not daring to move in any way, distantly remembering the last time he had tried that, he focused on opening his eyes to orient himself. He didn’t sense anyone being close by, but with the pain robbing him of much of his awareness, he couldn’t be sure he was really alone. Sounds of nature made it into his subconscious, rustling leaves and birdcalls. His right eye still refused to open, but he managed to pry his left one open. It took a while to focus, or rather it took a few moments to understand that the blobs he saw in front of his face were leaves scattered on the ground mere inches from him.

Letting his vision stray into the distance, he could make out dense forest around him… moss, ferns, trees, rocks. Without turning his head - not daring to - he couldn’t see far but in his line of vision, he didn’t see anyone close by.

It seemed he was alone, lying face down on the ground, hurting all over and still absolutely unclear on how he had come to be here or what had happened to him.

The only thing he did know was that he was injured badly and in need of medical help. With no one around, it fell to him to save himself… just as usual. His whole life had been a lesson in solitude and endurance. This was just one more chapter in the book.

Breathing as deeply as the pain allowed, he shored himself up to beginning to move. His left hand was in front of his face and he moved it slightly to get purchase on the ground. Pushing up just slightly, he instantly slumped back down to the ground with a sharp cry of agony when his body let him know that moving wasn’t on the agenda.

Pain crowded him and he tried blinking the stars away, tried to hang on to consciousness, but once more he couldn’t fend off the nothingness that embraced him.

Xxxxxxx

Hetty arrived at the hospital an hour after Deeks had been brought in.

“How bad is it?” she asked, directing her question mostly to Sam. Kensi sat in the corner of the room, nervously biting her nails.

Sam shrugged and stood, meeting their operations manager at the door. “The wound itself didn’t look too bad. The bullet was still inside but from the location it shouldn’t have done any damage to internal organs. Not sure if the shoulder blade is intact though. They took him to surgery to get the bullet out. I guess we’ll know more soon.”

Hetty nodded, her features easing slightly with relief. “What could he tell you?”

Sam sighed, “not all that much. He said he’d been made but that it took him by surprise. They turned on him in the shipping yard but he managed to get away. He said that Callen left with some of the guys two days ago to some unspecified secondary site further north. Eric is already checking that but he doesn’t have much to go on.”

Worry for his own partner was sharp.

Callen and Deeks had been undercover together in some new radical cult that had been blathering on about the superiority of the white race. They had been on the watch list of Homeland Security for a while, but the stakes had been upped lately when the group of misfits had managed to get their hands on some highly classified naval drone technology and had begun to sharpen their swords.

The setup of their operation had been much argued about, but eventually, everyone had agreed - or been forced to admit - that there was no other way. Callen and Deeks had gone in as half-brothers to back each other up when there had been no other outside backup available.

The group was highly suspicious of newcomers and any and all electronic devices were confiscated and the members of the group were regularly searched for any gadgets. Getting any bugs or earwigs into the compound had therefore been out of question. No one had liked it, but getting inside the group had been imperative to find out what they were planning and to hopefully being able to stop it.

On top of Callen and Deeks going in blind and without the comforting help of Ops and their team mates on call, there was no way to run overwatch without being spotted. The camp was on a huge set of private land. It was exposed and anyone approaching could be spotted from miles away. The FBI and Homeland Security had tried anyway and had been caught trying to sneak in. Sadly, the group had acquired some sneaky lawyers as premium members and they had won the previous lawsuits against the federal agencies.

It hadn’t left anyone feeling particularly good about the setup of the operation, but both Callen and Deeks were capable and experienced undercover operatives and they knew how to take care of themselves and each other. Plus… there had been no other choice.

The operation had been ongoing for five weeks and Callen and Deeks had been deep under. There had been no contact with the team aside of some previously arranged dead drops to exchange information.

The last package of information from Callen and Deeks had been six days ago and there had been no hint of them being worried or considering dropping out.

Just as Deeks had said, there had been nothing to suggest they might have been made.

“What do we do now, Hetty?” Sam asked quietly.

Their operation manager gave him a calm stare. He knew that she would also be worried, but in seeing her strength and confidence, he felt his own rise up to match hers. “I have contacted some friends from Homeland Security and other agencies. We’ll meet in an hour and then determine a course of action.”

“You think Callen has been made as well, don’t you?”

This time, it was Hetty’s turn to sigh. “They were undercover as half-brothers so it is plausible that they weren’t only suspicious of one of them. Mr. Callen is resourceful and has managed to draw his head out of a noose before, but I don’t think we can let this go on any longer.”

“A raid?” Sam suggested.

“Possible. But we don’t have anything on them yet. Any information Mr. Deeks and Mr. Callen recovered so far will not hold in court against the group. We need those drones to make the case stick.”

He knew that, but it didn’t bode well for his partner. “G might not have that long.”

“I know,” Hetty said softly, “try to gather as much information from Mr. Deeks as possible once he’s awake. We need all we can get to make an informed decision.” She reached out and pattered his arm before she turned away and left the room.

Xxxxxxx

He listened to the repetitive and annoying beeping of a heart monitor for a while before he managed to pry his eyes open. Hospital. Dull pain in his back. Woozy feeling of painkillers.

“They shot me in the back,” he mumbled, angry and irritated.

Two figures appeared in his line of vision. Kensi and Sam.

No Callen.

Fuck.

“Callen?” he asked, already knowing the answer would be negative, but needing to know anyhow.

Sam shook his head and even drugged to the gills, Deeks could see the worry in Sam’s expression.

Deeks cursed softly, shifting to change his position. Despite the pain medication, he hissed and squeezed his eyes shut.

Kensi reached for him and helped reposition him, not exactly to his liking, but better than before. “Take it easy there, Deeks,” she told him softly.

“The only easy day was yesterday,” Deeks gave back with a slight smile, hoping to break some of the tension with his usual inane chatter. A moment later, he grew serious. “Callen got close to Anthony over the last ten days or so, did and said a few things the guy liked. The two of us had some arguments in plain view when it seemed they were somewhat wary of the united front we presented before. Obviously brothers in twist with each other were easier to take or to control… who knows?” Deeks shook his head when his mouth wanted to run off on a tangent. “We discussed it and he withdrew from me. It felt like we would stand a better chance that way and Anthony took notice. He drew Callen in closer and started opening up to him more.”

Deeks sighed and closed his eyes, exhausted but knowing he couldn’t stop here.

Kensi smoothed a hand through his hair and he was glad that neither of his team mates suggested he take a break. He knew he should - as did they - but he also knew he couldn’t, knew that Callen’s life hung in the balance. If he had been made for whatever reason, he didn’t think that their team leader was safe. Taking a break was out of the question and he was glad they didn’t suggest it so he wouldn’t have to waste his breath on arguing.

He listened to a glass of water being poured and gratefully accepted it when Kensi put it against his lips. Taking a few sips, he took a deep breath to continue.

“There was some talk about starting a secondary site further north, even more isolated and easier to protect - as if the one here wasn’t bad enough. Anthony and Dean were real secretive about it… well, more secretive than they were about everything else. Anthony showed Callen some blueprints of the compound they were planning. It was big and Callen said it was designed like a fortress, difficult to breech. I can give you a rough sketch from what he told me and some things he sketched out.”

“You’re doing great, Deeks,” Sam encouraged, “anything else you can give us?”

“They left two days ago… or three now, I guess. Thursday morning. Took provisions and stuff with them. Dean said they would be gone for several days.”

“Who went along with Callen?” Sam prodded.

Deeks reached up with his left hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Peter, Steve, Thomas and Anthony. Steve and Thomas are muscle, Peter is in Dean and Anthony’s inner circle of confidence. Been with them for years.”

“Would it be strange for them to take muscle on that trip?” Kensi asked softly and he knew it was a question to find out whether or not Callen’s cover was blown as well and had been from the start of the trip.

Deeks pondered the question silently. “I didn’t think so at the time. In hindsight? Maybe, but Steve and Thomas were often part of the team surrounding Dean or Anthony, so maybe not.” He sighed softly, “get me some paper so I can make that sketch. Maybe Eric can find some property that will fit the criteria.”

It was a vague hope… there was a lot of ground ‘up north’. Then again, Eric and Nell had drawn rabbits out of their proverbial hats before.

When Sam straightened away, he called after him, “and check with the doctors when I can get out of here.” His current partner, his team-leader, someone he had begun to consider his brother not only in terms of the mission, someone who had at least become some sort of friend - as much as Callen allowed anyone to become a friend at least - was in danger and Deeks wouldn’t just lie around and wait for the others to find him.


	3. Chapter 3

“--llo… hear me?”

Words… broken by lapses of focus and awareness.

Callen once more clawed his way back to consciousness. Somebody touched him and his instinctive reaction was to cringe away. The scant movement brought exquisite pain again and he couldn’t bite back the moan. His body wanted to cower, to curl up and find some way to escape the pain, but it seemed to only get worse.

“--ay still.”

Another hand on the back of his neck and he wanted to move, to hide, to fight, to get away, instinct after years of dangerous work deeply ingrained in him, but he simply couldn’t, found he was at the mercy of whoever was around him.

“Shhh, it’s alright.”

A male voice, deep and gravelly, strong but soothing at the same time. Not a voice he knew.

Where was Sam? Sam was usually the first person around if he was injured.

Fingers on his wrist, questing for a pulse.

Hands on his body, bringing blinding flashes of agony before fading again.

A low whine escaped.

“-- turn him over?”

“-- damage to his spine if he fell down from there.”

He fell?

More words washed over him, hovering just out of his reach and understanding. The only thing that made it to his brain was that he wasn’t alone anymore and while that scared him as it put him at the mercy of these people, it also somehow meant the world to him.

The hands came back to his body, different this time, more purposeful, taking hold and manipulating the position of his arms and legs, making new agony scream through him.

“-- easy… turn you over.”

Two hands took hold of his neck and then his world turned, shifting and rolling and pain hurtled up and down and through and out of him. He didn’t have the capacity or breath to scream. Instead he welcomed the darkness that rushed him.

Xxxxxxx

“Anything, guys?” Sam asked when he entered Ops.

Both Nell and Eric were working furiously on their computer terminals, checking whatever leads they had dug out of the virtual fabric of their reality. Sam didn’t even pretend to understand what they were doing most of the time. And usually, he didn’t care, as long as it got them the desired results… results that they were seriously lacking right now.

“No, nothing,” Eric groused. “These guys are shoddy in leaving electronic footprints. No cell phones, no hard lines, no bank transfers, nothing that I can trace.” The frustration was pouring off of Eric in thick waves. All of them were frustrated… and all of them were worried about G.

“Did you find the car they left in?” Deeks had told them it was an old Explorer; dark grey and frustratingly unremarkable, no stickers, no dents, no nothing.

“The license plate number he gave us came back as stolen. Not belonging to that particular car though,” Nell spoke up as she stood from her chair and walked over to the big screen. Sam followed and hoped she would have something to share.

“They used the license plate several times to leave the compound as Deeks said and I’ve been able to confirm that with some CCTV cameras when I matched the days with those Deeks’ said they’d used the car. Problem is there are not many functioning CCTVs in the closer area of the compound and those that do work, haven’t shown the Explorer. I’ve taken into consideration that they might have changed the license plates once outside and have a list of grey Explorers in that area, but it’s a long list. I’m going through them one by one, but so far I’ve had no luck.”

Sam glanced at the collection of vehicles left for Nell to go through. It was hundreds of vehicles. “So we got nothing?” he asked, using irritation to mask his worry.

“Not at the moment, no,” Nell said regretfully.

“Anything on the compound sketch Deeks gave us? Have you been able to match that with any location yet? Recent purchases through different intermediaries.”

Eric shook his head without turning from the screen, his fingers flying over his keyboard as he continued his searches.

Sam knew he wouldn’t get anything more right now. As much as he wanted to hover and urge the two techs on, he knew he would be more hindrance than help. Without another word, he turned and left Ops in search of Hetty, missing the worried look Nell and Eric shared behind his back.

Xxxxxxx

Sam sank down into the chair in front of Hetty’s desk. She had been on the phone all morning, conferring with various agencies and turning up the heat.

He smiled slightly to himself when she threw the receiver down with a “get it done!” before following it with an “asshole”.

Hetty rarely let her temper get the better of her and even more rarely did she curse and call anyone names, but even she was human it seemed. He gave her a few moments to collect herself, her fingertips at her forehead and her eyes closed. Only when she breathed deeply and glanced at him, did he speak up. “Nell and Eric have nothing to go on. We have no idea where the secondary compound could be. Nell is trying to find the car that they left with, but she has to eliminate them one by one as they must have changed license plates.”

“These individuals are incredibly paranoid,” Hetty groused, “they might have even changed vehicles.”

A cold wave of fear washed down his back because Hetty was right. And if they had exchanged vehicles, their chances of finding the correct car diminished even further. They needed a miracle to find Callen if that was the case and knowing the men they were up against, they wouldn’t have exchanged cars anywhere even remotely close to a camera.

“We’re running out of options, Sam,” Hetty said quietly, “SecNav wants the drones, wants this group shut down, but we don’t have the necessary Intel for that. We have to operate under the assumption that not only Mr. Deeks’ cover has been burned but also Mr. Callen’s. I’m not willing to sacrifice an agent for the mission but haven’t managed to convince the powers that be yet.”

“Can we use Deeks’ shooting as a reason to go in and raid the compound? Attempted murder…” Sam suggested.

Hetty shook her head, “if Mr. Callen isn’t at the compound as we suspect, we could put him in even more danger if they get a hold of those with Mr. Callen and report Deeks’ status.”

Of course Sam knew this, knew this wasn’t an ideal scenario but they had to do something. He hated the feeling of helplessness, hated not knowing where his partner was and if he was safe, assuming that he wasn’t.

Xxxxxxx

Sam had gone another round with the heavy bag, his third one today and it was barely noon.

Kensi was with Deeks, trying to keep him in the hospital bed he was adamant he could climb out of. The Detective had tried, only to sway dangerously and flop back onto the bed with the help of Kensi and a nurse. He had lost quite a bit of blood and his body was struggling to patch itself up. He had no business being out of bed yet, but despite having been proven it wasn’t a good idea, he still argued.

Sam could understand the notion. He was keeping a precarious grip on his emotions and his worry for Callen flared every few moments.

Deeks and Callen though… they had worked together on this assignment and Sam knew that forged a special bond, especially in such a hostile and difficult environment. Those two had trusted each other - and only each other - for several weeks and for Deeks to be forced onto the sidelines while his assigned partner was unaccounted for and most certainly in grave danger… Sam could sympathize with his need to get up and try to help.

The problem was, that there was nothing they could do right now. They would endanger Callen if they moved, but he was also in danger if they didn’t do anything.

“Ops, now!” Nell called urgently from just inside the gym before turning back around and leaving as quickly as she had appeared.

Sam didn’t hesitate; he simply stepped back from the heavy bag and left the room at a trot, grabbing a towel on the way out to mop up the sweat that had accumulated. He entered Ops just steps behind Nell and found that Hetty was already there.

“I found the car returning to the compound earlier this morning. They were caught on a CCTV,” Nell told them and Sam glanced at the picture. Anthony Dorsten was behind the wheel. There were three other men with him and none of them was Callen.

Sam felt his stomach drop and turned to Hetty. He found the same worry in her eyes.

“They wouldn’t have left him behind at the secondary compound. He didn’t have that much pull in their organization yet. Deeks said that this Peter was in their inner circle of confidence and if they needed anyone to supervise anything up north, it would have been him, not Callen,” Sam stated.

Hetty nodded slightly and Sam knew her own assessment wouldn’t be different from his. “We have to move in, Hetty… now,” he said, imploring.

Hetty drew a deep breath and turned her glance on him. “I’ll make the arrangements and get you backup from the other agencies. We need everyone we can have to help out on this,” she decided and turned to leave Ops.


	4. Chapter 4

“- in and out of consciousness.”

Again, he clawed his way back to awareness, feeling a shift in the air around him. His view had changed: a canopy of trees high above and a cloudy sky instead of moss covered ground and dead leafs directly in front of his face. The rest was the same… he was still in pain, still unable to make himself move for fear of pain. Something else was different though… more people.

Callen blinked slowly when the ground on the left side of him vibrated, a dull thud as a pair of knees sank down by his side. Moments later, the face of a person appeared in his range of vision.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

He took in the man’s face, half obscured by some sort of helmet.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yea,” he croaked, squeezing his eyes shut when just the rumble of his voice made pain tumble through his chest.

Again, there were fingers questing for his pulse. “-- your name?”

Focus. He prodded his mind to start focusing, to stop slipping away, but it hurt. Everything hurt. Callen blinked his one functional eye open again and the other man gave him a small smile when he focused on him again.

“--re you are.”

If he had the capacity for it, he would probably feel downright stupid for being unable to do much more than lie there and cling to consciousness. Reaching deep inside of himself, he searched for the last vestiges of strength to become more alert. Name. He had been asked for a name.

“Cal-“ he murmured, breaking off and again cringing when the pain in his chest increased.

“Alright Cal,” the man seemed to take his aborted murmur for face value, “I know you’re in pain. We’ll be putting an IV and painkillers into you in a second. Just hang on.”

That sounded like heaven. He hated needles, but nothing could be as bad as this.

“How bad?” A second voice on his right side, out of his vision as his right eye still didn’t want to open.

“Barely conscious. Pulse is thready and weak. We need to get fluids into him soon. I’m preparing an IV.”

He felt the presence of the other man on his right side lean closer.

“Name’s Cal,” the first man added, rummaging through a bag that had appeared out of nowhere.

“Alright Cal,” the second voice sounded right above him and he blinked to focus on the man. “We’re here to help you and get you out of here. I’ll check you over more thoroughly, while Sam over there starts you on an IV.”

Sam? Sam was here?

He started trying to look around, look for the man who had always had his back, who was more than a co-worker, more than a friend.

Before he could find him though, the man’s voice sounded again, calling his attention back. “Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”

“All ov--“ he whispered, unable to complete the sentence when the air in his lungs didn’t last that long.

“Any trouble breathing?”

“Yea-“ he croaked an affirmative, “hurts.”

Moments later, his shirt was cut open. Cool air hit his chest, making him shiver, making the pain intensify… if that was even possible. Where was Sam?

“I got little movement of the left side of his chest.”

Something touched his chest for moments before moving on to another place. “Reduced breath sounds on the left side. He’s got a pneu. Get him on oxygen as soon as you’ve put that IV in.” The hands were back on his chest, fingers questing for breaks and quickly finding them, making him squeeze his eyes shut and a whine escape. “I can feel multiple fractures.”

A prick on his left hand was followed by a “done” and moments later a “can one of you hold that up, please?”

A third person appeared in his peripheral vision, but he couldn’t concentrate on them when an oxygen mask was put over his mouth and strapped to his face.

“Cal,” the voice of one of the EMTs called and he glanced over, “you’ve got a pneumothorax which means…”

He gave a slow nod, letting the rest of the words wash over him. He remembered the feeling, now that he focused on it. The way his lung wouldn’t - couldn’t - expand to take in enough oxygen.

There was a sharp prick, a cut, an incision before suddenly his lung expanded again. It didn’t hurt as such and he was more focused on drawing breath, finally able to get more air.

“There, that’s better,” one of the men said while the other settled above his head, glancing down at him. He met the man’s gaze, unable to focus on his features or take in anything other than that he was male and looked calm and confident. The man took hold of his head and held it steady. “We’ll put a brace on you now, Cal, to make sure to keep your neck protected.”

Too exhausted to try for a reply, he allowed his eye to close.

“No sleeping yet,” the man above him admonished and he blinked his eye back open, “that’s better. How’s the pain, Cal?”

The first hint of relief had started creeping up on him, spreading throughout his body and slowly blanketing the worst of the agony. “Better,” he murmured just as a brace was slid beneath his neck.

“Good,” the man above him gave him and encouraging smile.

The brace was fastened before the men turned their attention back to the rest of him, carefully beginning to pat down his legs, finding more of the many points of agony and making him cry out weakly despite the pain medication running through him.

“Broken lower left leg.”

The hands climbed back up, carefully settling on his hips. Just the slight pressure doused his body in fierce red hot pain and he gulped in a breath while a moan slipped out. He was distantly aware of more words being passed between the men above him even while white noise rushed in his ears. His hold on consciousness was slipping and he reached even deeper inside of himself, looking for that reservoir of strength that had always been there. It was difficult to reach though, difficult to make a grab for it and hold onto it. He clung to consciousness by his fingertips, unable to focus on what was going on around him anymore.

“You still with me, Cal?”

He heard the words and managed to roll his one functioning eye over to the man hovering over him.

“We’ll be airlifting you out now.”

He must have missed a lot, had been strapped to a board and was now deposited in some kind of cage that was lifted moments later and carried off. Just a little while later, they stopped and several girths were fastened on the cage. One of the EMTs also strapped himself in and then they were lifting off. Trying to focus above him, he could make out the silhouette of a helicopter hovering.

Thoroughly exhausted, he felt his grip on consciousness beginning to fade and gave into the nothingness despite the paramedic calling for his attention.

Xxxxxxx

Sam faltered briefly when he left the interrogation room and saw Deeks perched in a chair in front of the monitors. He looked like death warmed over. “You could scare your own shadow away looking like that, man,” Sam admonished softly when he stepped into the room.

Deeks glanced up blearily. “Had to be here,” he muttered.

Sam gave him a small smile, half gratitude, half worry.

“He gave anything up?” Deeks asked, tilting his head slightly to the monitor where Dean McAllister could be seen inside the interrogation room. In the lower half of the monitor, a smaller window showed the second interrogation room with Anthony Dorsten and Kensi.

Sam shook his head. “No, nothing.” He put the file onto the table, holding back on most of his frustration.

“Maybe I should go in,” Deeks suggested and Sam arched an eyebrow before shaking his head.

“You’re by no means fit to go in there.”

“I agree,” Hetty’s voice spoke up behind them, “you shouldn’t even be here.”

“Hetty-“ Deeks whined only to be interrupted by their operations manager.

“I’m not about to throw you out but you will not be taking an active role interrogating the suspects. You may sit here and listen in - that’s more than I should allow you considering you were shot and had surgery just last night - and maybe you’ll pick up on something that we would otherwise miss,” Hetty told him firmly and both Sam and Deeks recognized that was as far as Hetty was willing to compromise.

“Yes, Hetty,” Deeks muttered, suitably chastened.

Sam gave him a small smile over Hetty’s head before he focused back on their operations manager when she turned towards him.

“I don’t think either of those men will give us anything useful - or anything at all,” Hetty groused. She glanced back at Deeks, “who is the weakest link that might hold some information we could use?” she asked him and added something before he could draw breath, “some information concerning Mr. Callen’s whereabouts. I don’t care one iota about the drones right now.”

Deeks considered that for a second or two. “Try Mick Fletcher. He’s young, impressionable. Reminded me of a puppy trying to get anyone’s attention.”

“So just like you?” Sam smirked.

Deeks rolled his eyes but was part grateful for the well known jibes. The dynamic was off with Callen missing and in danger, so anything that tied them to their usual ‘ _normal_ ’ was appreciated and helped settle some of the nerves. “He hung out with Steve a lot and Steve took him under his wing - he also liked to brag to Mick sometimes. Steve may have told Mick something about the trip when they got back.”

Hetty glanced at Sam and gave him a firm nod. “Get him here and see what he can give us.”

Xxxxxxx

Nothing.

The short version was: Mick could give them nothing.

The long version consisted of an extended interrogation between Kensi and Sam, trying to ask, to cajole, to con, to tag-team and to threaten.

There was nothing Mick had to offer them in terms of places and locations. The only thing he could give them was one sentence: ‘Steve said they took care of a troublemaker on the way.’

All of them knew that this was related to Callen. All of them were sure that it wasn’t good.

The fact that Callen hadn’t called in suggested he was incapacitated and that didn’t sit well with either of them.

They needed to find Callen, and fast, hoping they weren’t already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Again... I’m no medical expert. So let’s hope I got it mostly correct and let’s forget about what I didn’t get correctly ;)


	5. Chapter 5

They were once more going over leads - or rather the lack of them.

A certain air of desperation had settled over the team during the last two days.

They had no hits, no leads, no nothing that could help them find their missing team leader. Sam took out his frustration on the heavy bag, Kensi took her worry and anger to the gun range, Nell and Eric were digging down deep into the fabric of the earth to find _anything_ at all, while Deeks was having a hard time working through unwarranted guilt while being incapacitated due to his bullet wound.

Sam knew that Deeks felt he had done something wrong by letting Callen out of his sight and not being around to back him up. All of the team knew he had done nothing wrong, that undercover operations often necessitated changes of plans, but Deeks was holding on to the responsibility and the guilt. Being physically unable to exorcise his demons due to his bullet wound also didn’t help. He couldn’t outrun or out-surf this hellhound nipping at his heels.

They all did their best to help the Detective while floundering as well.

“There’s just too many places that could fit the criteria of what Deeks said the secondary compound was supposed to look like,” Eric shook his head, “I’m sorry, guys, but I’ve exhausted all avenues I could think off.”

Everyone felt the effect of the words, literally heard the door clang shut on that lead.

There wasn’t much more that they could try.

“Are you monitoring his aliases?” Sam asked.

Nell gave him a small nod. “Yeah. Nothing on any of them.”

Deeks made an undecipherable sound and dragged a hand through his hair, his gaze down. Kensi reached for him and squeezed his shoulder.

Sam shared a worried glance with their operations manager. He got the feeling that they would lose Deeks to his guilt if they couldn’t get Callen back. On top of his worry for his partner, Sam felt the nagging fear that the whole team might break apart over this because if they lost Deeks, they would eventually also lose Kensi.

He could only hope that Hetty had an ace in her sleeve to keep that from happening.

Nell tilted her head to the side in confusion when she glanced at her tablet. “Director Vance coming online in 10 seconds,” she announced and everyone straightened and turned to the screen.

Hetty stepped in front of them, possibly to shield them from whatever fallout this whole debacle would have in political terms. “Director,” she greeted mildly when the connection engaged and the man appeared on screen.

He returned the greeting with a nod. “We got news about Agent Callen,” he said without preamble and Sam saw the jolt run through all of them.

“Is he alive?” Hetty asked, her voice tight. Sam gripped the table. Deeks looked paler than he had moments ago. Kensi glanced worriedly between the screen and her partner.

“Yes, he’s alive,” Vance reassured and they collectively sighed. A moment later, everyone straightened once more, animation returning to their bodies. Without being prompted, Director Vance continued, “Portland PD checked his fingerprints. When they noticed his classified status, they called me,” Vance continued. “He’s in hospital, has been for the last few days as an unidentified patient. I have no information about his injuries other than he’s in bad shape, but I’m certain you will take care of that as his medical proxies, Henrietta… Agent Hanna.” He glanced to the side for a moment and gave the person with him a short nod, “contact information for the Portland PD and the hospital has been sent to you.”

Distantly, a beep sounded and both Nell and Eric reached for their tablets.

“Until they called me, no criminal investigation had been launched as the incident where he sustained his injuries could have also been an accident. I assured them that he most certainly was not an accident but rather part of an ongoing investigation in LA. It is being classified as a suspicious incident now and an investigation will start. You’ll get more information from them I guess. Keep me up to date.”

Hetty gave a sharp nod, “thank you, Leon.”

With the typical cut-throat motion from the Director, the feed was terminated and silence fell over the Ops center. Several heartbeats later, Hetty turned towards them. “Mr. Hanna, with me. The rest of you, contact Portland PD and find out about the state of their investigation and whatever they can tell you.”

“I want to go to Portland,” Deeks said quietly.

Hetty turned towards the Detective and gave him a gentle smile, “let us find out about his state first, then we’ll assess what needs to be done and who needs to be where.”

“No, seriously, Hetty, I…” Deeks started, his voice half strangled and everyone could see the guilt plain on his face.

Hetty stepped close to him and put a hand on his forearm. “I know, Mr. Deeks, I know.” With that, she glanced at Sam and beckoned him to follow her out of Ops center and down to her office.

Xxxxxxx

Sam was still reeling from the news that his partner, his best friend, was in hospital fighting for his life… again.

The list of injuries G had sustained was substantial. He had been found at the base of some steep hillside that he had ‘fallen’ down. Sam suspected more that he was pushed or had been dumped there.

The injuries were consistent with those sustained in such a fall: massive trauma to his body, including a serial rib fracture of the left side of his chest which had resulted in a pneumothorax, a broken pelvis with internal bleeding, a broken left leg, broken collarbone, an orbital fracture, lots of deep and superficial bruising and some head trauma.

He was lucky to be alive.

He had been operated on as soon as he had been delivered to the hospital by rescue flight and ever since then, he had been put into a medically induced coma to allow his body to heal. He was listed as critical but stable.

Hetty had sent G’s previous medical records to the attending physician during their phone call, knowing it would help the medical team to better take care of him.

Silence reigned between them as both Hetty and Sam digested the information they had been given.

Eventually, Hetty released a soft sigh and their gazes met. Sam waited.

“Take the team with you. Mr. Deeks needs to be there and Ms Blye needs to back up her partner and help catch his fall. Keep an eye on him, Mr. Hanna,” Hetty implored.

“And G?” Sam asked.

“Hopefully, he does what he always did best: fight to survive.”

Sam gave her a sad smile and stood.

Before he could turn to leave her space, she once more met his eyes.

“Take heart, Sam. Help him fight,” she told him. Sam wasn’t quite sure whether she meant his partner or Deeks… probably both.

Xxxxxxx

They had been met by the attending physician who had explained in more detail just what had been done and what to expect. Nothing had changed since they had left LA. G was still critical but stable.

The hospital had tried to identify their John Doe… or rather Cal Doe, as the paramedics had told them he’d answered their question for a name with the word “Cal”. There had been no missing persons’ reports that fit his description in Portland or the state of Oregon. He also hadn’t had any identification papers on him. Eventually, when no one had come forward looking for their patient, the police had been asked to match his fingerprints against the database, finally making NCIS aware of his whereabouts.

Sam was the first one to enter the ICU. On the one hand he knew that Deeks needed to see the man who he had been partnered with, on the other Sam wanted to get a head start to be able to evaluate just how badly Deeks might take seeing G laid down like this. Deeks hadn’t been around back after G’s near fatal shooting all those years ago and while the Spiral virus had wrecked havoc on G’s body as well, the worst days of his illness and a lot of his initial recuperation had been spent in Georgia at the CDC’s headquarters and no one but Sam had been present.

On top of hoping to be able to gauge just how much this would affect Deeks, Sam also admitted to himself that he, too, desperately needed to see his partner, see for himself that G was alive, even if he was not well.

Sam sighed when he got his first glimpse of G, a sheet barely covering his lower half before being stopped by several metal pins belonging to an external fixator stabilizing his broken pelvis. A draining tube could be seen protruding from the left side of his chest. Other tubing snuck in and around his body in various areas, some of the tubing smeared red with blood that was still draining from various wounds.

His casted left leg was elevated and his right arm was strapped to his chest to support his collarbone. Massive bruising could be seen all over his body and his right eye was swollen shut courtesy of the facial fracture, with interesting colors on full display. Beneath all the bruising, he looked ashen, his skin having lost color.

The whooshing of the ventilator and the sounds of the heart monitor filled the otherwise quiet space.

Dr. Riverdale stood a step behind Sam, respectfully silent while Sam took in the sight. After a few moments, the man stepped up next to him. “I know it’s a difficult sight to see.”

Sam turned his head to the other man. “Sadly, it’s not the first time I see him like this.”

“Yeah, we all saw the scars and by now, we’ve seen his medical history.” The man paused, glancing around the room. “Your friend is quite a fighter, Agent Hanna, or he wouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” Sam murmured, his gaze still on his partner.

“We’ve adjusted his medication after reviewing his medical files. We’ve deepened the sedation. As with any medication, you’re trying to go with the lightest dose possible, but he tried to break from sedation several times.”

Sam smiled slightly, his shoulders relaxing just a little bit as relief tentatively crept through him because, “yeah, he tends to do that.” It showed that his partner was still there and fighting.

Dr. Riverdale returned the smile, “so I saw in the files. As I said, we’ve adjusted the sedation to a dose he tolerated well before. We need to keep him under for a while longer to give his body a head start to recover. The dose he’s on now means that he won’t be fighting the sedation to regain consciousness. I know it’s probably not what you want, but remaining in an induced coma is really the best thing for him right now.”

Sam nodded, giving the physician another short glance before pushing forward, quietly stepping over to the bed. He reached out, putting a hand on his friend’s good shoulder. “You’ve got to stop doing this, man,” Sam said softly, “scared us to death.”

Sam let his eyes move over his friend’s frame once more, taking in the damage. “You’re safe now, G. The team is here. We’ve got your back so you can relax your guard and let us keep watch.”

Only the machines answered his words while his partner remained asleep.

Xxxxxxx

Kensi had seen Callen before in a state like this, but her features revealed her worry for both G and her own partner when they came back outside to meet up with Sam.

Deeks was paler than he had been before entering the ICU. Sam internally sighed. He had expected this to impact heavily with their already guilt ridden team member.

For the moment he couldn’t do much more than keep an eye on him and give him an assignment he could complete even with his own injuries and one that might help a small way in assuaging the guilt.

“We’ll get a bite to eat, then Kensi and I will head to the police station to see what they managed to uncover so far. Deeks, I want you to stay with G,” Sam told them both, taking the lead.

“I…” Deeks broke off before shaking his head, “I should be with you guys, do my job and liaise.”

Sam watched the younger man for a moment, trying to gauge whether he had miscalculated and Deeks actually needed to be away from the hospital so he could come to grips with this. Sam didn’t have the same canny ability his partner often displayed when it came to understanding the moods and needs of his team mates. But Sam also knew his team mates well and as he observed Deeks, he suspected the man was offering not because he wanted to be somewhere else but rather that he felt it was his job.

Sam shook his head. “Your job is to liaise with LAPD, not Portland PD,” he told the other man calmly, “and your job now is to stay here with G on protective detail. We still don’t know everything that happened and if there might be someone from the group trying to finish what they started.” It was a slim chance and Sam doubted that would be happening, but for one thing he didn’t want to take the chance and for another, he hoped by giving Deeks the same job the other man felt he had failed at before gave him a chance to redeem himself and to also show him that _their_ trust in his ability never wavered and that he could protect his partner and watch his back.

With Deeks being preoccupied with his guilt, he might not understand what Sam was doing before he felt the effects of it settle inside of himself. At least that was what Sam hoped would happen.

He shifted his gaze behind his team mates when two police officers approached. Withdrawing his badge, he met the two officers and they shared a few words. G would be protected by the Portland PD as well - courtesy of Hetty and her connections - and Deeks would be stationed inside as a last line of defense ‘ _in case of_ ’.

He returned to his team mates a moment later. “Food, then we’ll get going,” he told them firmly. He doubted any of them felt like eating after seeing G like this, and after the last few days of worry, but Sam also knew they needed to keep their strength up. This would not blow over within a few hours. With G’s injuries, he would have a long road ahead of him - and until their team leader was conscious and getting grumpier by the day to be laid up, it was Sam’s turn to hold the team together and help all of them through this.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam glanced up the incline, feeling his stomach tighten. A little while ago, they had stood on the dirt road above from where G had been either thrown down or pushed out of a moving vehicle. Seeing it from the bottom of the hill after a long and difficult trek down, carefully picking their way, really drove the point home just how lucky G was to have survived the fall.

The incline was steep and Callen had tumbled all the way down to the base of the hillside.

The forest was dense and there were comparatively few disturbances marking his passage, a few broken branches here and there and some spots of blood on a tree stump halfway down. Somehow Callen had missed being stopped by a tree trunk along the way and Sam suspected that had saved his life. There was a large rock not far from the base of the incline where they suspected he’d impacted heavily - probably leading to the injuries on the left side of his body - but he’d rolled further down where he could be found.

It seemed his luck had been holding, as he’d been found by two hunters familiar with the territory and relatively well versed in first aid. According to the Portland PD the two men had basically stumbled over G on their way to check the traps they’d laid out the previous day. They had called it in and within minutes, a chopper from the Rescue Squadron had been deployed.

If those two hunters hadn’t come this way, or if they had done so on another day, G would be dead. From up above on the dirt road, no one would have seen anything suspicious. There had been basically no marks there.

Sam shared a glance with Kensi when she approached.

“Anything?” he asked.

Kensi shook her head. “No, the techs have collected blood and checked the area, but there’s nothing else they found, no personal items or anything that might have been thrown down here along with him.” Her mouth clicked shut after the words had tumbled out, knowing they were somewhat insensitive and stinging when she was talking about Callen - superior, mentor and friend.

Sam gave her a small smile to let her know it was alright. They were all still dealing with the shock of things.

“He’s incredibly lucky to be alive,” he said softly as he stood up from where he was crouched around the place where G had laid, had been taken care of by the paramedics, a few pieces of medical packaging left on the ground when they rushed back to get to the pickup point from where he could be airlifted.

This place was basically in the middle of nowhere, the dense forest of the rolling hills around Mount Hood. There was no official street, only dirt tracks crossing the area.

“What were they doing out here?” Kensi wondered, turning to glance back up to the dirt road above.

Sam followed her glance and shrugged. “Getting rid of him.”

Kensi nodded slowly, but a frown marred her features. “It’s a good place to hide a body, but there are also areas closer to civilization that have a high probability of his remains never to be found,” she said and once again, Sam felt the brief stab of worry for his partner deep in his gut. Kensi turned back to him and met his gaze, “I’ve studied the maps before we came here while you were talking with Detective Tolya. This is far out of the way and it seems like a bad idea to travel here just to get rid of him when there are closer options.”

“You think there’s another reason for them to have come here?” Sam asked, tilting his head to the side.

“We should have Eric and Nell check the area for any place that could fit their needs for a compound.”

Sam was skeptical. This area didn’t fit the one thing the group was fond of… being able to spot an enemy - read: federal agencies - creeping up on them. With all the dense forest as cover, it would be easy to get the drop on them. All other checkboxes were ticked or at least probable though: lots of space, isolation, possibly a well defendable position, no easy access. So, Kensi had a point.

“Alright, call it in,” Sam agreed before straightening and beckoning Kensi to follow him to where the two Detectives and several crime scene techs were working, or loitering around and waiting for them to join.

Xxxxxxx

Deeks was rambling. He knew he was rambling but he just couldn’t seem to get himself to _stop_. Most of his life, he had used words… in defense, to create confusion, to distract, to entertain, to joke and to hide behind. Right now, it was fear talking.

He had left Callen alone. He had not done what he should have done, what had been his job: back his partner up.

He should have argued with him further when Callen suggested withdrawing from each other, should have told him it was a bad idea. Fact was though, Deeks remembered agreeing with Callen and he also remembered agreeing with the assessment that their chances of cracking these men improved by putting space between each other.

Hindsight.

Still, he should have known better.

Then again, they both should have known better. Callen was by no means a rookie. Compared to Deeks’ experience, Callen had years more knowledge in deep cover investigations on him and Deeks could probably be considered the rookie in that partnership.

And they had both agreed on what needed to be done. There’d also been no telltale warning of his instincts.

It was usually easier in the movies… you _heard_ when the protagonists made stupid decisions because there was dramatic music starting to play in the background. In reality, there was no music - dramatic or otherwise.

Still, Deeks couldn’t let go of the guilt and the fear that gripped him.

His eyes alternately lingered on Callen’s frame or shied away from even glancing in his direction.

He glanced up when another nurse entered the room, checking on Callen’s stats and jotting things down in his file. She gave him a smile before once more leaving the room. He couldn’t tell how often that exact same scenario had played out in recent hours.

Deeks sighed and shifted in his seat, biting back the hiss of pain from his own wound. He had tried walking around earlier so as not to grow stiff in the semi comfortable chair, but he was still woozy and exhausted and therefore he sat back down so he wouldn’t embarrass himself by slumping to the floor to be rescued by one of the nurses. Also, he didn’t need any more guilt for leaving his post if that happened and he had to be admitted.

Deeks jumped when a hand fell onto his shoulder, a startled moan slipping out. He glanced at the nurse in front of him, who had appeared out of nowhere and was holding out two pills and a glass of water.

“Your boss alerted us that you have been injured recently and have been prescribed some medication. From the way you’re hunched over, I’m betting you didn’t take them, now did you?” she asked softly.

Deeks glanced at her hand and then back to her face. “That’s very kind, but I need to stay alert.”

“The two gentlemen out there are quite capable of keeping watch and these won’t knock you out,” she told him calmly but firmly, “take them. Worrying about the patient in the bed is enough. No need to add you to the mix as well.”

There was a slight twinkle in her eyes and for some reason, her words startled a laugh out of him. Deeks reached for the pills offered and drowned them with the water she handed him only moments later.

The nurse nodded before straightening, once more checking over her assigned patient. “He’s holding his own, Detective,” she reassured him when he gave her a questioning glance.

Xxxxxxx

When they returned to the hospital to check on Callen and Deeks, Sam and Kensi stopped by the observation window, not entering the room.

A nurse went to pass them before stopping and also glancing inside. “He’s been like that for half an hour. Our head nurse got some painkillers into him and a little while later he relaxed enough to nod off. There’s no change on Agent Callen. He’s holding his own.”

Both Sam and Kensi gave her a grateful smile, before simultaneously turning away and heading back to where they had come from, both deciding not to disturb Deeks who was curled sideway in the chair so as to take pressure off his own wound. Someone had placed a blanket over him while he slept.

They went back to the cafeteria to get some food for themselves and to later bring something up for Deeks.

“I hate that he’s feeling so guilty about something that isn’t his fault,” Kensi murmured as they stepped into the elevator.

Sam turned to her and sighed softly, “I get where he’s coming from, even if it’s unwarranted. It’s tough for him to see G like this while he walked away comparatively alright. It will take some time before he can let go of that.” Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back into the elevator wall. “It will get better once G improves.”

“That is bound to take some time,” Kensi murmured.

Sam shrugged, “yeah, but he’ll get there.” As of yet, there were no guarantees on that other than knowing G’s tenancy and inherent strength. “And Deeks doesn’t need a completely fit Callen for him to let go. What he needs is for G to be conscious so he can hash things out with him… or rather have G tear into him for being an idiot.”

“It’s not his fault,” Kensi said firmly.

“Of course it’s not,” Sam gave back immediately, leaving no room for discussion or error. In the beginning, when Deeks had just started working with the team and Sam had been unimpressed by the man, he might have answered differently, but Deeks had more than proven himself to the team over the years. They all knew he was capable in his job so there wasn’t even a smidgen of doubt that he had done nothing wrong in Sam’s head. The trouble was to make him see that, and as he had told Kensi, he didn’t think that anyone but G could achieve it.

Xxxxxxx

When Kensi and Sam entered the ICU cubicle after their impromptu break to get something to eat, Deeks stirred in his seat.

Kensi moved over to her partner and brushed a hand through his hair.

Sam watched with a smile as Kensi Blye, one of the toughest women he knew, visibly relaxed just by being in her partner’s presence. Her features softened and some of the stress fell off of her shoulders. Deeks blinked up at her with a sleepy smile. It was sickeningly sweet and a good thing to watch.

Sam turned away from them, giving them a brief moment of privacy while he observed his partner, his eyes taking in the readings of the heart monitor before settling on G’s battered frame.

When he turned back to his team mates, Deeks had straightened in the chair and Sam openly observed him. The shadow of guilt and worry was still prominent in his eyes, but he looked a little better than he had during the last few days. Deeks returned his observation with a small nod.

“We brought you something to eat,” Sam said, nodding towards where Kensi had put the container.

Stretching slightly, Deeks took hold of the container and brought it back to him. There was only a small flicker of a grimace that stole over his features. Obviously the painkillers the nurses had gotten into him were helping.

“You guys found anything?” Deeks asked while he unwrapped the sandwich.

“The wonder twins are currently searching for any properties that could fit the requirements for a secondary location close to where Callen was found,” Kensi answered.

“The location he was found at is completely out of the way and only reachable through dirt roads. Kensi suggested there would have been easier places - closer by - to get rid of him,” Sam added.

Kensi glanced back at their unconscious team leader, “he’s incredibly lucky to be alive. That was one hell of a tumble he took there and with the isolation… if the hunters hadn’t happened to come that way - or even if they had walked by mere fifty yards from his location...” Kensi said softly, trailing off.

Silence rang out as each of them contemplated that while all their gazes were drawn to the man in the hospital bed.

“Have you talked to the hunters?” Deeks asked after several quiet moments.

“The police provided us with their statements and there was nothing missing. Eric and Nell ran a brief check on them, but they are clean and we didn’t see the need to follow up on anything with them,” Sam shook his head, “Detective Tolya is currently chasing up the rescue workers, but neither of us is holding our breath for any relevant new information. Those guys did their job and I doubt there would be anything they could provide to help the case.”

“So we’re stuck… again?” Deeks groused.

Kensi shrugged and settled back into the chair next to Deeks’. “For the moment. We know how it is. Eric and Nell will find something and then we can start moving again.”


	7. Chapter 7

Eric and Nell indeed found something… a connection to an ancient property in the area of Mount Hood belonging to a cousin twice removed from Anthony Dorsten’s father. Said cousin also held a law firm on Portland through which phone calls from their L.A. lawyers had been routed. It was the connection needed to make a break in the case.

While each of the team had wanted to take part in it, Hetty had stood them down from the raid at the Mount Hood property and the law firm. They had argued, but eventually Hetty had won. A subtle hint that as long as they didn’t have everyone in custody, Callen might still be in danger if the lawyers had the right contacts had given them pause.

As such, the small ICU cubicle was crowded while they continued their protection detail on their team leader.

All the time, G remained the same.

Xxxxxxx

The drones had been found on the property and various federal agencies were dismantling the whole group, digging deep to ensure they got everything when some things - like that cousin twice removed and the law firm in Portland - had been missed before.

Each person in the family trees of the two leaders Dean McAllister and Anthony Dorsten were given a good shake to see if anyone else fell out of the proverbial branches.

Nell and Eric were digging deeper still, satisfying their own need to see their team leader safe when they couldn’t be in Portland and help in any other way.

Three days after coming to Portland, seven days since G had been found and brought to hospital without their knowledge, the case was well on its way to being closed.

Sam glanced up when Dr. Riverdale stuck his head into the cubicle and beckoned him outside. Kensi and Deeks were sleeping at the hotel, having been with G previously, leaving Sam to take the night shift.

Standing, Sam followed the physician outside, somewhat worried even though there had been nothing suggesting G taking a turn for the worse. On the contrary, his stats had improved and his condition stabilized.

Dr. Riverdale gave him a small smile when they met up outside of the room. “No worries, Sam,” he said before Sam could inquire as to the reason of their talk, “your partner is doing well. In fact, we’ve discussed his condition with the ICU team and we’d like to try and wake him up.”

Sam relaxed but didn’t speak up, seeing the physician had something to add.

Dr. Riverdale leaned against the wall, “while a medically induced coma gives the body time to recover in a deep sleep, usually it’s encouraged to keep the length of time a patient spends sedated as short as possible. His condition has improved to a point where waking him up is possible.”

He noticed that Dr. Riverdale was carefully enquiring about his input, knowing Sam had been around during previous hospitalizations of his partner. “G doesn’t do well being laid up and essentially helpless. He hates being unaware of what is happening. He would prefer being awake as quickly as possible,” Sam stated mildly. He knew his partner wouldn’t like having been kept in a coma for a week already. He had groused about that same fact after his shooting all those years ago. The sedation he was under was stronger than recommended for most patients because otherwise he would be trying to fight it. Sam suspected that in some way he was fighting it even now, but the medication simply didn’t give him any ground to gain and eventually it might start draining his resources if he continued to struggle without getting anywhere.

Dr. Riverdale nodded, “then we’ll go ahead and start lightening the sedation. It might still take a while before he regains consciousness as you probably know from previous experiences.”

Sam returned the nod and glanced back into the room, “if I may suggest something,” he stated slowly, his eyes traveling over his partner’s body.

“Certainly,” the man beside him said.

“I know the strapping of his right arm is beneficial for his collarbone, but G doesn’t do well with restrictions. He’s been detained before and feeling his arm restricted might not go over well - especially since he will be disoriented from the medication. I don’t know how aware he was of what happened to him, but the rescue workers said that he was somewhat conscious when they got to him, so I think it’s fair to say that he knows he was in danger. The restriction of the external fixator and his broken leg will already tax him. He might not handle it well if his arm is strapped down on top of everything else,” Sam explained carefully.

“He might hurt himself if he moves that arm. The collarbone is just healing and any movement might set that back,” the physician hedged and Sam turned towards the man.

“The risk of that is lower compared to him reacting in a full blown defensive mode and putting strain on the rest of his body,” he noted and watched Dr. Riverdale mull over those words.

“Alright, I see your point,” the physician eventually gave back, “as soon as we’re getting to a point where the dose of medication in his body is low enough for him to start breaking the sedation, we’ll unstrap his arm. Try to keep him calm and have him not move it. I’d hate for him to undo all our work.”

The small smile took the sting out of the words and Sam returned it, glad that he had been able to get the doctor to agree and win that small battle for his partner. He did indeed doubt that G would react well to being restricted and Sam would probably have his hands full already without adding the restrained arm into the equation.

Xxxxxxx

“That’s great news, Sam,” Kensi smiled when he filled them in once they had settled in their customary places around their team leader’s bedside.

“What can we do?” Deeks asked, his eyes firmly on Callen.

And this was what would have the potential to get ugly and be difficult. Sam sighed, “you two will go back to the hotel and stay there until I call you.”

Deeks jerked his head upwards and glanced incredulously at Sam. “You’re kidding, right?”

Sam remained silent and merely held Deeks’ gaze, letting him know he was serious without repeating his order.

“No!” the Detective hissed, “no way, Sam.” He glanced away before returning his gaze to the former SEAL, “that’s… no…” There was a brief pause, before he seemed to deflate and curl in on himself, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Why?” he added in a whisper.

Kensi had stayed out of the conversation so far, instead watching Sam intently as he leaned forward, his voice calm and soothing. “Several reasons: I’ve been through this with him before. I know the dos and don’ts that come with G. Secondly, he wouldn’t want you guys to see him like that and third: he never before reacted well to being crowded. I’ve discussed it with Dr. Riverdale and they will stay back as far as possible so as not to trigger him.”

Sam let the other two digest that.

They all knew that Callen could be dodgy about physical contact and being crowded, but neither of their younger team mates had been present when Callen had come out of previous sedations… it wasn’t pretty. He could switch from unresponsive to combative within a fraction of a second and the more people around, the more threatened he felt, the more viciously he tried to get away.

“I’m not doing this out of spite, Deeks,” Sam added gently, waiting for Deeks to glance over, “you’ll get to see him as soon as possible so you can finally stop senselessly beating yourself up over this, but until then, G’s needs have to rank above yours.” Sam didn’t add that he feared if G struggled during his waking up phase it might impact negatively with their already unbalanced Detective and send him further down his guilt trip.

Deeks’ eyes slid from Callen to Sam and back. “I know,” he murmured eventually, his frame slowly relaxing out of the defensive curl it had been in before.

None of them knew why Deeks was reacting so strongly to what had happened to G, why he was so adamant it was his fault. From all accounts of what he had told them, it had been an operational decision both undercover agents had made together and it was one they had made before. There was the matter of survivor’s guilt, but for some reason Sam didn’t think that was all. He wondered if there was more to the story than they knew or if Deeks himself wasn’t even able to understand why this impacted so heavily. Maybe they should consider recalling Nate to help Deeks.

Xxxxxxx

It had taken fourteen hours for G to show first signs of awakening, withdrawing from painful stimulus and at that point, Sam had sent Kensi and Deeks away, knowing that things might be happening more quickly from then on - as had been the case in the past. With G, you never knew.

The tracheal tube had been pulled a little while ago and G was breathing regularly on his own. The team of doctors and nurses were indeed keeping their distance, monitoring G’s vitals from afar and only checking in with Sam every now and then.

Sam kept a sharp eye on his partner so as not to miss the crucial moment he knew would come eventually. He talked quietly to the other man, hoping to give him something to focus on and to let him know that he was safe.

He watched over his partner as he displayed the first indistinct and uncoordinated movements. When G started moving his right arm sluggishly, Sam reached out and gently stayed his hand, knowing he might provoke a negative reaction.

Indeed, G grew more restless, trying to shift his arm away and out of Sam’s touch. The panic was missing, but there was a restless urgency in his partner’s movements and Sam leaned closer.

“Open your eyes, G,” he ordered softly, “you’re safe.”

Xxxxxxx

Consciousness returned in waves, leaving him floundering. The pain he remembered was mostly absent, just a dull throb all over.

He distantly recognized the voice he heard, couldn’t place it though. Whenever he thought he might be close to puzzling it out, he sank back into nothingness.

He was feeling heavy and his body was being uncooperative about moving while his mind was being uncooperative about making sense out of anything.

Frustration rolled through him and he intensified his efforts, cursing his body and mind for being stroppy. Finally, there was some movement, sluggish and exhausting.

He let the cloud of darkness envelop him once more, unable to keep it at bay.

The next time he escaped the oblivion, he felt a tiny bit more in control and returned to his task of moving and getting back on top of things. A hand on his arm sharpened his focus. Was he being restrained? Why?

He tried moving his arm again, encountering a slight resistance, not strong enough to send his still dulled instincts into DEFCON mode, but prompting him to struggle further for focus and clarity.

He noticed the voice above him. Sounds, indistinct words and murmurs had accompanied him for a while, registering without being made sense of.

It took effort to open his eyes, but it would be necessary to take in his surroundings and decide on what to do. The shape was indistinct, blurry and he had a memory of indistinct green and grey blobs that stirred up a feeling of dread. He tried moving his arm again, but it was still held carefully against his chest. The hold was gentle and didn’t feel threatening.

“-asy.” Movement above him, more indistinct sounds, “- safe.” He could make out rhythmic beeping and upon inhaling, he noticed the smell of disinfectant.

He tried blinking his eyes - or eye? His right one felt strange - to sharpen his vision and slowly the blob began to take shape. The voice was also beginning to make sense. He knew that voice, the cadence and rhythm.

He opened his mouth to form the name “-am?”

“Yeah, I’m here, partner. Relax and lie still.”

It was then that the barrier keeping him from the real world seemed to shatter and his brain started working again. He was in hospital and his partner was there to back him up. Why was he in hospital? Had he been shot again?

He hurt, though it was dull, but it was still there and a whine of pain escaped before he could reign it in.

“Easy, G,” Sam murmured and Callen blinked his eye open once more, unsure when it had fallen shut. He waited for his vision to focus on Sam and was relieved to find his mind didn’t play tricks on him when eventually his senses returned enough to visually identify his partner.

“There you are,” Sam murmured and gave him a smile.

He let his focus hang on Sam for some moments longer before age old restlessness returned and the need to know his surroundings grew more pressing. His focus slid away from Sam and he tried glancing around.

“You’re in ICU, G. It’s Friday and you’ve been here for a week,” Sam supplied the necessary information and he was trying to make sense of the words. A week meant he had missed some time. ICU meant he was badly injured. Callen started moving slowly, still sluggish, trying to find the reasons for his stay in ICU.

Sam sighed softly and put his hand on his shoulder, staying his movements. “Don’t move, G.” Despite the words being said in a gentle tone, he could feel himself responding to the order, conditioned after years of working with his partner. “I’ll get one of your doctors and we’ll talk you through, ok?”

He gave a slow nod, drowsy but determined to remain awake. It felt like just a second ticked away before a door opened on his right side and he could sense someone else approaching.

Xxxxxxx

That had gone way better than he had expected. G waking up from a deep sedation had been smooth and easy for once and Sam sarcastically wondered in the privacy of his mind if they were getting the hang on how to do this by now.

He watched over his partner as he slept once more, exhausted and in need of time to recuperate. The talk with Dr. Riverdale had gone about as smoothly as Sam had expected, his partner wary of the man but taking his cues from Sam. The impact of the physician’s words had been easily visible in his usually reserved and controlled friend. Sam had seen the frustration when his partner had noticed the external fixator and his mind had caught up with the restrictions it would pose for the foreseeable future.

Another sarcastic thought was that at least the external fixator ensured that G would remain in bed for a while as opposed to his usual modus operandi of sneaking out when it came to being laid up in hospital. Sam allowed himself a tired smile, certain they had some battles ahead of them but equally certain that G would make it through just as he had done so many times in the past before.

He glanced up when the door opened and Kensi and Deeks quietly slipped inside. He put a finger to his lips, knowing that G was much more prone to waking up now. His partner usually didn’t sleep much and without the sedation, he would unconsciously return to his old habits even if his body needed the rest.

True to his internal musings, Sam saw his partner once more beginning to wake just a few moments after the rest of the team had entered the room. It was some kind of inherent internal warning system that alerted G to the change in his environment and had him fighting to wake up once more.

Sam sighed and leaned closer to the bed. “Take it slowly, G. You’re safe,” he reiterated, knowing with the medication still running through his friend he needed to remind him of his safety for it to sink in eventually.

One eye blinked open only moments later. G’s right one was still swollen and wouldn’t open more than a tiny slit.

When G focused on him, he instantly saw him relax, obviously reassured by his partner’s presence. Another blink later, and his senses seemed to inform him of the other presences in the room and he tensed back up slightly before letting his gaze move around the room, trying to make out the identities of the other people.

Sam was glad when G reacted to Kensi and Deeks by relaxing once more. He knew his partner trusted their junior team members, but G in hospital was a different person and he hated being perceived as weak.

Xxxxxxx

“Hey,” G croaked, his eyes lingering on Kensi and Deeks, taking in their appearances. He focused on Deeks, his mind trying to puzzle something out.

Sam had been tightlipped about just how he had come to be here. Seeing Deeks, Callen thought it had something to do with the younger man, some operation they had been on… together?

He frowned and then mentally shook his head, not sure if it was worth stressing over right now, equally unsure if he would be able to concentrate on the thought long enough to puzzle it out.

“Hey Callen,” Kensi smiled before coming closer and leaning over him, brushing a kiss against his cheek.

“Favorite agent,” he murmured, giving her what would usually pass for a charming smile… if his face weren’t black and blue, his right eye swollen shut.

Kensi laugh softly before Deeks huffed and drew her back, “hands off. Get your own girl, bro,” he sniped with a smile.

Bro.

The word reverberated in his head, bringing with it some snippets of information.

_Deeks walking towards him with a teasing smirk._

Bro.

_His arm slung over Deeks’ shoulder as they bantered, following after some men._

Bro.

Callen tilted his head slightly to the side, trying to hang onto the brief flashbacks to give him more information. These things had happened, and they had happened recently; a kinship with their Detective that had not been there before, despite all the years of working together. Something that had felt easy and had given him contentment.

Bro.

_Words of anger between them._

Bro.

_Withdrawing from each other, something that had felt right in regards to the undercover job but wrong in regards to **them**_.

Feeling the brief snatches of memories peter off, he let them go, deciding to consider them later on when he had more than a few - still heavily medicated - brain cells to rub together.

When he returned his focus back onto the here and now, he noticed Deeks watching him closely and gave him a smirk, “I get sympathy points right now with the girls.”

There was a somewhat choked sound coming from their Detective, but Deeks didn’t elaborate and Callen found his attention snagged by his partner when he mentioned pretty nurses and doctors. It felt like a diversion, but he couldn’t properly concentrate, felt his attention waning _again_ , knowing it was the blasted medication that would impair him for longer than he would like. At the same time he was glad for the medication since the dull throbbing all over let him know he would be in quite substantial pain if he didn’t have those drugs in his system.

Feeling his focus spiral away, his eyelid growing heavier, he let sleep overtake him just a few minutes after waking in the first place, reassured in the knowledge that his team had his back.

A soft murmur of well known voices accompanied him into sleep.

Xxxxxxx

Seeing G awake had seemed to help Deeks somewhat. The downward curl of his shoulders had lessened though it wasn’t gone yet.

Kensi and Sam had carried the conversation after G had drifted off once more, while Deeks’ focus hung on their injured team mate, his eyes never leaving his figure. Yet again, Sam wondered just what had happened between the two men and during the investigation to result in this insecure and guilt-ridden Detective.

Sam glanced over to Kensi to find her gaze also on her partner, worry blatantly visible in her eyes.

Sam sighed inaudibly and then stretched before getting up. “Kens,” he called and tilted his head to the door, “let’s get something to eat.” He got the feeling that their Detective needed some alone time with G once more.


	8. Chapter 8

The next time he woke, the scenery had changed again. Sam and Kensi were gone, but Deeks was still in one of the chairs drawn up close to his bed, fast asleep. Deciding to use the time to see if he could catch up with what had happened recently, find the memories and put the pieces together, Callen continued to watch the younger man.

Bro.

He still remembered Deeks calling him that earlier. Deeks had once laughingly told Callen and Sam that he had always wondered how it would feel to have older brothers that he hated and that he now knew after they had teased him mercilessly. For a long time there had been a certain feeling of brotherhood between them, within the team, but it hadn’t been overly strong.

They way the word had rolled off of Deeks’ tongue earlier though had been different from before. It was familiar, gentle and easy.

Also, while he hadn’t been focused on it, there had been an answering feeling of kinship and brotherhood within himself that Callen had noticed but not dwelled on upon hearing the address.

Watching the younger man now, asleep in the chair, his hair lacking its usual shine, his features drawn and tight, his body angled slightly sideway in the chair to take pressure off his right side, Callen was somewhat startled at the strong emotions that rolled through him. One stood out, something he had felt only once or twice before - years and years ago when he had been in foster care and put himself out there: protectiveness of a younger sibling.

Deeks didn’t require his protection, was a capable individual in his own right, and yet something had developed between them that had shifted his perception.

Callen allowed his eye to fall closed again, exhaustion and medication both dragging on him. Still, he didn’t give in to the darkness that hovered at the edge of his consciousness, instead continuing his quiet contemplation.

Snatches of the undercover operation they had been on together slowly started appearing. Two charismatic leaders - unusual for a radical group where normally only one alpha male held the reins, but it worked in this setting somehow - and a bunch of white supremacists.

He distantly remembered conversations between Deeks and himself, shared feelings of anger, loathing and disgust. He remembered reminding each other of the necessity of playing along, however abhorrent it felt. And he remembered getting sucked further into his charismatic team mate’s orbit, the deepening feelings of brotherhood. He remembered many quiet discussions about things that had no part in their op, but that tied them closer together than before. Memories that he had shared with the younger man that he had never shared with anyone before - neither with Sam nor with Hetty. They had both shared such things, had both made an effort to get closer to each other at first and had then later slid effortlessly into the kinship… a kinship that felt more real than it should, a kinship that felt good.

Callen smiled slightly to himself and blinked his eye open again, checking on the younger man. This undercover had changed something between them and he felt himself hoping it would remain. He watched as Deeks shifted slightly, his breathing hitching before he slowly blinked his eyes open and glanced around before his eyes returned to Callen, “hey,” he muttered and stretched somewhat carefully.

Callen gave him a small grin, “sleeping on the job, are you?” he teased.

There was a breathless second before an indistinct sound came from between Deeks’ lips, somewhat strangled and pained. There was a wide eyed expression on the man’s features and Callen felt his own smile fall. Deeks looked like he’d been punched in the gut before he pushed up, the chair tumbling over.

Callen called out to him, surprise and urgency making him more alert as he tried to reach for the man who now turned and basically bolted from the room.

He watched him go, calling after him, wondering what had just happened and cursing his inability to follow.

Xxxxxxx

Stepping out of the elevator, Sam and Kensi recoiled when they were nearly bowled over by a blurry figure sprinting past them. Despite the split second they had before he was past, Sam noted the expression on Deeks’ features. It was an expression he had never seen before on the man, an expression he didn’t know to put a name to. If he was pushed to describe it, he would consider attributes like ‘guilt’, ‘pain’ and ‘despair’ all rolled into one.

He shared a glance with Kensi before giving her a nod in Deeks’ direction, wordlessly asking her to follow him while he checked on his own partner.

Striding into the ICU room that held G, ready for a fight to protect the man in the hospital bed, he found his partner trying unsuccessfully to flop onto his side. He could only guess that G was trying to get up despite being essentially chained to the bed due to the fixator and the broken leg, never mind all the other medical equipment and tubes connecting him to various machines.

“G?” he asked, finding no external threat in the room, and therefore focusing on his partner.

Callen’s attention instantly snapped to Sam, his features drawn with pain and worry. “Where did he go?” he asked somewhat breathlessly.

Sam tilted his head to the side. He stepped over to the bed and put a restraining hand on G’s good shoulder, keeping him down before he hurt himself further. “Kensi followed him. She’ll take care of him,” he told his partner. “What happened?”

Callen reluctantly sank back into the mattress, his eye closing, his features tightening in a way that Sam knew meant he was in pain. “Dunno,” his partner whispered, blinking his good eye open again. “He was sleeping. When he woke up, I teased him,” he said, “asked if he was sleeping on the job.”

Sam winced and rubbed a hand across his forehead. Leave it to his partner to say just the thing that would set Deeks off. When he glanced back at G, he found one clear blue eye staring at him, the other straining to open. Despite the swollen eye and all of the other injuries, it was the most coherent he had seen his partner since he had woken up.

“What, Sam?” Callen asked. “Why did that set him off?”

Sam picked up the chair that must have toppled over when Deeks stood and sank down into it, holding his partner’s gaze. “Because he’s blaming himself for not having your back, for landing you here.”

He watched the impact of the words, watched his partner practically recoil, “why would he think that? What the hell happened?”

Sam knew that his partner didn’t remember much of what had happened before he had woken up in hospital. They had not spoken in detail - Callen had been too out of it for that before - but he wondered if he should have pushed some more, wondered if he should have prodded.

Xxxxxxx

Sam had given him the bare backbones of what Deeks had told them and an answering feeling of agreement had risen within him, letting him know in his gut that it was exactly what had happened. He was certain the memories would come back, remembered the brief snatches of memory he had had when he had first seen Deeks after waking up: the memory of a heated fight that had felt staged, the way they had withdrawn from each other out of necessity even though it had felt wrong… not in regards to the op they were on but in regards to the personal relationship that had developed.

Sam told him that they didn’t know why Deeks felt so guilty and kept on insisting he didn’t have Callen’s back. From an outside standpoint, the decision to put distance between them had been made together and had been logical. Callen agreed, both from a tactical standpoint as well as the more personal firsthand experience of having been in contact with their targets. He knew he wouldn’t have agreed to putting distance between Deeks and himself if he’d had any reservations. He was still the senior agent, the team leader and ultimately the decision would have been his.

“Get him back here,” he told Sam. He was flagging, completely exhausted and yet he pushed on. Needed to push on… for Deeks’ sake.

“You’re dead on your feet, G. You need to rest,” Sam told him softly and Callen knew that his partner was looking out for him - in the immediate sense that his body really needed the rest and the more abstract sense that Sam probably wasn’t sure if he could get Deeks back into the room, unaware of the Detective’s current mood.

“We need to hash that out,” Callen countered, “he needs to get that out of his system before it overwhelms him. Get him back here.”

Sam sighed and nodded, probably knowing that he wouldn’t win this fight.

Callen narrowed his eye at him, “and wake me up or so help me God, you will regret it.” He saw the way Sam’s shoulders fell, knew he had caught his partner in a contemplation to let him rest if he dozed off in the time it took to return their Detective into this room. He locked eyes with his partner until Sam capitulated and nodded in agreement. Callen returned the nod and let his eye fall closed, deciding to conserve his energy and shoring himself up for the upcoming discussion with Deeks.

Xxxxxxx

“He’s asleep. He needs to rest. We should leave him in peace, Sam.”

The soft, but half frantic voice dragged him from oblivion, an instinctive reaction of both - his ever present situational awareness coupled with caution bordering on paranoia and on the other hand a reaction to the distress in his team member’s voice. Callen blinked his good eye open, finding Sam practically pushing the reluctant Detective into the ICU room… under quiet but a multitude of protest. He didn’t see Kensi, but had a feeling she was close by.

Callen returned Sam’s stare when his partner turned his focus on him without letting go of Deeks. He gave his friend a nod of appreciation.

Callen drew in a careful breath, using the discomfort from his ribs to wake himself up further. Then he turned his focus onto Deeks. “Sit,” he ordered, putting enough steel into his voice to have the Detective react instantly - with a bit of a push from Sam. Wide eyes stared back at him.

Callen glanced at his partner. “Leave,” he issued a second order, tilting his head towards the door.

Sam gauged him for a second, but Callen didn’t back down and eventually, Sam stepped back out of the room, taking Kensi along who by now had appeared in the doorway.

He turned his focus back on Deeks, silent seconds ticking by before Callen narrowed his eye at the younger man. “Start talking,” he requested simply, the third curt order within just a few moments.

“I…” Deeks hedged, glancing away before his eyes flickered back to Callen, “I don’t know what you mean. I mean, what do you want to talk about? The weather is lousy outside. Be glad you’re laid up in here.” There was a hiss and a wince from the man, obviously uncomfortable with what he had said, “that came out wrong,” he backpedalled, “I mean… maybe I should…” Deeks stood from the chair, a deer-in-the-headlights-look on his face.

While Callen had been intent to let the younger man ramble on for a while, using the moments to shore himself up and at the same time to try and gauge Deeks’ state of mind more accurately, he knew he had to act now, so Deeks didn’t run out on him again. He narrowed his one good eye and stared at the Detective, “sit your ass down,” he said, his voice a low growl. He didn’t use that tone of voice often, but Deeks knew better than to disregard the demand anyhow. The Detective plopped back down into the chair, less a conscious decision and more an instinctive and conditioned reaction to his team leader’s order.

When Deeks opened his mouth to say something, Callen lifted a hand in a stopping motion. “No,” he muttered, “you had your chance. Now it’s my turn.”

There was an audible click as Deeks shut his mouth and Callen would swear he sank deeper into the chair, his shoulders hunched, reminiscent of a dog mistreated, cowering and awaiting further punishment. The only one dishing out punishment though was the man himself.

“Sam said you felt guilty for this,” Callen intoned neutrally, glancing down at himself before turning his eye back to the Detective.

Deeks followed his glance skittishly before his eyes danced away from Callen, looking anywhere but at him.

Callen sighed internally. This was worse than he thought. Deeks couldn’t seem take in his injuries now that he was awake, even though Sam had told him that Deeks had sat with him while Kensi and Sam worked the crime scene. He decided the kid gloves would be coming off and to face this head-on. “Look at me, Deeks,” he murmured, more a gentle nudge than a direct order, “I’m injured, not dead. I’ve had worse and I got back on my feet. I will be alright.”

He waited, letting the silence settle between them as he gave the younger man the time to process this. He watched as Deeks eyes swung over to him and back away several times. The man wasn’t prone to biting his nails, but he was just a short distance away from doing that as it seemed. There was anguish in his features, but also a slight easing in his frame when Callen’s words slowly penetrated his guilt ridden mind.

He spoke again, his voice even more gentle. “I will be alright, brother.”

This time, Deeks’ eyes flew over to him, startled, hopeful and delighted all at once.

It suddenly got easier to read the man, to look behind the wall of guilt and get to the core of the problem. Callen had a hunch, and he chose to follow it, once more shedding the kid gloves, bouncing back between reassurance and straight forward question to keep the younger man unbalanced to hopefully get to the heart of the problem.

“Back to the topic,” Callen stated, steeling himself again, knowing this might hurt the other man, but also knowing he had to provoke him, “Sam said you felt responsible for me being here. Why? What did you do? Where did you go wrong?” he asked, firming his voice but keeping the undertone of an accusation out of the questions. Simply by putting them out there, the wording itself should be enough to trigger a response. Deeks was doing the blaming and accusations himself. There was no need to add to that with adding a certain tone of voice. Still, the questions would impact, were harsh in itself considering the man felt guilty about this situation.

Deeks winced and seemed to shrink back into the chair. He glanced down at his hands, his shoulders hunched again. “I wasn’t there to back you up,” he muttered and Callen only heard the words because he was completely focused on the younger man.

Callen tilted his head slightly to the side, “I wasn’t there to back you up either when you were hurt,” he responded evenly.

Deeks glanced up and away again, “I wasn’t…”

Callen’s good eye narrowed on its own volition, “bullshit,” he interrupted forcefully before Deeks could lie any further, “I’m on medication, Deeks, not stupid,” he snapped. “You’re favoring your right side, upper chest, probably your back. I suspect a GSW.” He simply put the statement out there, waiting for what the Detective would do.

Deeks shrugged one shoulder - the left one - uncomfortably, and continued to glance down, remaining silent.

This was like interrogating a reluctant suspect and he barely refrained from rolling his eye. Usually they couldn’t get Deeks to shut up, but now, he was very word-weary when Callen would rather he talked. Drawing a slow breath, his hand going to his side to support his ribs, Callen waited another moment for Deeks to say something. When he didn’t, he gave him another gentle nudge, “talk to me, Deeks.”

“We shouldn’t have separated,” Deeks muttered.

“Why not? It was a valid plan and we both agreed,” Callen said simply.

“It left you open to this,” Deeks exclaimed and stood suddenly, his chair once more scraping on the floor and making Callen wince at the noise. The Detective drew a hand through his hair in frustration.

Callen saw a shadow shift outside of the room and he shook his head when Sam peeked through the observation window. The shadow withdrew and Callen turned his attention back to Deeks. “Open to what? Being thrown out of a moving car? Pushed down a steep hill?” he asked, again not sugarcoating what had happened - or what they suspected had happened as his memory hadn’t returned yet.

Again, Deeks flinched but remained silent.

“Deeks, you and I both know that it was the right decision to put some distance between our covers. It worked. We’re both experienced in solo undercover operations and we both know how to handle ourselves,” Callen told him calmly.

“And still _this_ happened,” Deeks exclaimed, moving back to the chair he had vacated and sinking into it, burying his face in his hand.

Callen watched him in sympathy, knowing his next question might be closing in on why this impacted so heavily with the Detective. “Have you ever _not_ had your partner’s back during a mission?” he asked quietly.

Deeks seemed to deflate in front of his eye, hunching over even further. There was a small shake of his head but no verbal reply.

Callen nodded to himself. In all the years with them, Deeks had never let anyone down. He had backed Kensi up even after he had been shot, when she had been the intended target and he raced down several flights of stairs and hospital corridors, pulling his stitches along the way, to make sure his partner was safe. Also, he had not hesitated in going after Sam in the whole Sidorov debacle. There were many more cases where he risked himself and as far as Callen was aware, he’d never not backed any of them up or been sloppy. So not being there to back his assigned partner up and having that partner badly injured would be a new experience… and not a pleasant one.

Callen remembered that pain, that guilt, that pressing feeling of horrified anguish.

“I was 23 when another agent got shot on my watch. I didn’t particularly like him, but he was a good agent and someone I learned a lot from.” He didn’t look, but felt Deeks was watching him. “We chased a suspect down an alley in Bucharest and my partner was ahead of me by a few paces. When I turned the corner, he was facing off with the guy. Suspect looked like he was about to surrender when suddenly there was movement in my peripheral vision. The second man got off a shot before I took him down. I was too slow and I didn’t follow protocol to the letter. It was my duty to watch my partner’s back, to make sure the area was safe and I didn’t.” After all these years, the pain was still there, still raw and burning brightly.

“What happened to your partner?”

Callen took a slow and measured breath, feeling the fatigue from both… his memories and his current state. “Bullet damaged his spine. He was paralyzed after that. Took his own life three years later,” he answered quietly.

The words impacted heavily with the younger man and Callen shook his head. “Deeks,” he called softly, waiting for the younger man to raise his head and meet his eyes. Only when their gazes were connected, did he speak, “ _this_ was not your fault,” Callen said calmly, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. “What happened to my partner in Bucharest was on me. This? Absolutely not. You couldn’t have known and you weren’t even close when this happened. We both know there’s a high risk in undercover work and especially in solo missions. Still, we both agreed to go that way and there was nothing to suggest this would happen.”

There was a slight easing of Deeks’ frame, a little of the tension deflating upon knowing that Callen didn’t blame him for this, but not completely, and Callen continued watching him, wondering what else was there. Before he could ask, Deeks glanced away.

“I still should have known,” the other man murmured.

Callen frowned, “how? How should you have known?” he asked, wondering if there was something that Deeks wasn’t telling him.

The blond got up from his chair again and slowly moved around the room, not quite pacing but still obviously needing to work off some agitation. When he started talking, it felt more like he was talking to himself instead of Callen. “I always knew when things got bad. Always knew when to be home so he wouldn’t hurt her any worse.”

There was a moment when he wanted to scoff and ridicule that Deeks wasn’t psychic, wanted to tease the young man as they so often teased him about one thing or another, but he held his tongue and instead looked deeper. While Deeks was hinting at incidents that had happened years and years ago in his youth, something was important about this. The situation Deeks called up was so completely different to the current one that it shouldn’t even be comparable, but somehow Deeks’ brain connected those two and Callen knew he needed to find the common denominator to understand where the problem really came from. What Deeks had hinted at was one or another domestic situation where his mother was threatened and injured by his abusive father.

There was nothing domestic in their case, nothing that could link those two situations… unless…

Callen watched the other man closely, taking in the small signs, remembering bits and pieces of their mission, the way they had been drawn closer to each other, had felt comfortable with each other and sunken deeper and deeper into their roles as half-brothers.

Half-brothers.

Family.

With that, the last piece of the proverbial puzzle fell into place. He remembered the delight and hope in Deeks’ expression when Callen called him ‘ _brother_ ’ earlier in their talk. This mission had resulted in a kinship neither of them had expected and he understood suddenly that Deeks didn’t only feel guilty about supposedly not having his _partner’s_ back, but about not having his _brother’s_ back.

Callen remained silent, examining his own feelings upon that revelation, again finding the contentment he somehow remembered feeling during the mission in regards to the other man. There was something that glowed warmly inside when he realized the depth of Deeks connection to him. He had earlier thought that the undercover assignment had changed something between them and that he hoped the closeness would remain. The reluctance he might have expected considering his own history - the reluctance to get close to anybody - was missing, instead there was a feeling of comfort.

Closing his eye, he allowed himself to sink into the feeling, letting it blanket the exhaustion and pain that was tugging on him. He listened to the sounds of Deeks moving from one end of the room to the other, until the man suddenly stopped. Callen blearily blinked his eye open once more and found Deeks watching him. He gave the other a small smile. “Sit down, Deeks,” he said softly, feeling his strength fade, but also feeling he needed to give the younger man something to help ease his pain. When the other sat down, he sighed softly, carefully. His eye fell closed and he let it, exhaustion once more dragging on him. “That guilt is not yours to carry. If anything, it’s mine,” he murmured, “it should have been my job to watch out for my younger brother.”

There was a somewhat startled intake of breath beside him, but he wasn’t able to force his eye open anymore, instead voluntarily gave himself over to the darkness that snuck up on him. He also didn’t startle like he usually would when a hand unexpectedly landed on his forearm. Quiet words followed him into the darkness, “sleep, bro. I’ve got your back.”

Xxxxxxx

Pain burned hotly when he woke the next time. He didn’t have the strength to swallow the low moan, instead tried to focus on his breathing. It was an age old technique he had learned during his childhood.

Breathe through the pain. Pain is fluid. Breathing is constant.

He startled slightly and forced his eye open when fingers tightened around his forearm, not having noticed the weight of a hand on his arm previously.

“Painkillers are already on the way,” Deeks told him quietly and Callen gave him a small nod, allowing his eyelid to fall closed once more and turning his focus back into himself.

He distantly heard Deeks talking. He didn’t try to make sense of the words, instead allowed them to wash over him and yet they brought a measure of comfort. He knew his usual partner’s voice inside and out, pitch, cadence and rumble. At the same time he found that he had come to know Deeks’ voice just as well and it helped to provide a measure of comfort to ward off some of the pain.

Still, the pain was harsh, zinging up and down his nerves and he fought to distance himself from it, to compartmentalize. It was hard to do, his energy reserves stretched to the limit and beyond. His talk with Deeks before had sapped a lot of strength, but it had been necessary. He was paying for it now though.

He didn’t notice anyone entering the room, only noticed another persons’ presence when someone attached something to the shunt in the back of his hand and cool fluid entered his veins moments later.

“There,” Deeks murmured, “they’re bringing out the good stuff for you. Just relax and let it do its job.”

He was waiting for it and it only took a few moments before the pain started to grow dull and then became distant. His breathing eased and he slowly relaxed, his iron grip on coherency also fading gradually. He allowed it, knew he needed to listen to his body and sink into oblivion.

Xxxxxxx

After he had practically forced Deeks back into G’s ICU room and basically locked those two up together so they could work this out, Deeks had remained with their team leader for the rest of the day.

Both Kensi and Sam had watched from outside for a long time, first as Deeks and G were talking or rather hashing things out and then later watching over both men after Callen had nodded off. They had briefly checked with Deeks on whether or not he wanted to head out for a while, but the Detective had refused, had instead once more made himself comfortable in the chair beside G’s hospital bed.

Even though G had dropped off to sleep, both Kensi and Sam had felt that they should withdraw for a while, leave Deeks alone to watch over his current partner.

The air inside the room seemed lighter though and Deeks’ posture was different from before. It seemed that G had managed to get through to the younger man. Sam doubted that all was good yet, but at least, Deeks seemed to do better. After the last few days, it was a marked improvement already.

The call from Hetty was not entirely unexpected but still rather unwelcome. They were expected back in L.A. to close the case on their end. He had argued against leaving Callen up here alone as he wasn’t in any condition to be flown out to L.A. yet. Hetty had countered that he wouldn’t be alone. Deeks was on medical leave as well and she expected he would remain with Callen.

It made Sam share a glance with Kensi… it was just another incident where they wondered just what their operations manager knew about any given situation. Deeks had once suggested that he considered Hetty being the Master of the universe and every now and again, Sam had to agree with that suspicion.

Xxxxxxx

Three days after waking, the day after Kensi and Sam left, Callen underwent another surgery, this time to exchange the external fixator against an internal stabilization system for his pelvis. He wasn’t exactly sad to see the contraption go even if he knew he still had a long recovery ahead of him.

He had been able to remain awake for longer periods of time before, but the surgery threw him back under the bus and he missed lots of time over the next two days.

Usually he disliked having anyone around if he felt this low, his body in pain, his independent and free spirit tethered to a hospital bed, but he found Deeks was surprisingly good company. The younger man didn’t always manage to draw him out of a bad mood, actually fled his hospital room once when Callen was especially hostile - so far, only Sam had been stoic enough to withstand his darkest moods - but Deeks still made being laid up less straining, entertaining him for long periods of time with inane chatter.

They had several more conversations about the case and about Deeks’ reaction to it and he could see the younger man relaxing more and more, getting past his unwarranted guilt. Usually, Callen wasn’t the talkative guy, giving Nate the slip whenever possible and sidestepping minefields of ‘emotions’ by pretending they weren’t there, but Deeks needed to hash things out and Callen was determined to help.

It was another week before he was deemed stable enough to be brought back to L.A. on a medflight. He spent most of the flight drugged to the gills as turbulences shook the plane and made the pain spike. Again, Deeks was around, providing backup and distraction even though for the life of him, Callen later couldn’t remember what he had been talking about.

Waking up in hospital and finding Sam by his bedside shouldn’t feel so strange, but he actually expected someone else. Callen smiled wryly when Sam gave him a knowing grin and told him that Kensi had dragged her partner from the hospital so he could get some rest at home and some loving from his mutt who had obviously been pining for Deeks.

Xxxxxxx

When he was finally allowed to leave the hospital another five weeks after being relocated to L.A. and some intense rehab, he gave everyone the slip - much to Sam’s anger he suspected - and took a cab to the beach. He needed some solitude outside of the hospital, a small breather and some time to himself.

While he had had lots and lots of time to himself at the hospital despite frequent visits from his team, he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on the memories of the mission outside of the good ones he’d had together with Deeks. He had remembered that fateful last day, remembered what had happened, but had decided to lock it away until further notice. Hospital wasn’t the place to allow himself to focus on that, focus on that brief moment of terror as he realized their intention, that brief and horrible feeling of weightlessness before he hit the ground for the first time, tumbling down and down and down the slope, branches scratching his face, leaves crinkling as he fell and that sickening crunch of impacting with something half way down, instantaneously resulting in mind numbing agony before darkness swallowed him.

He hadn’t been able focus on that in hospital, too trapped still in the aftermath of what had happened, but he also knew he needed to let the memories out before they consumed him. So escaping from the hospital was his only solution before Sam could fetch him and bring him home into the Hanna household to be pampered for a little while longer.

Sitting on the sand, watching the waves, listening to the endless song of the ocean withdrawing from the land only to roll back in again moments later gave him the stability to ground himself in the present while he allowed his mind to wander back in time. It wasn’t even that he hoped to gain some insight into what had happened, just that he knew he had to let the memories out to run their course before he could settle them back into the back of his mind and forget about them, move past them.

Callen didn’t turn when he heard several sets of footsteps approaching, knew he had been found by his team. Sam sank down on his right side, Deeks on his left with Kensi beside her partner. No one said anything and he was glad they didn’t berate him for leaving on his own.

The silence surrounded them but he felt himself relaxing into the quiet company, something he usually shied away from. Still, this team had become family, including the two techs that had most likely found him in the first place and guided the rest of his team here while remaining in overwatch from Ops.

Callen smiled slightly to himself before straightening. “I could use a hand to get back up,” he admitted, laughing softly when Sam rolled his eyes and started grumbling about inconsiderate and stupid idiots while standing. Reaching down together with Deeks, they carefully drew him to his feet and turned him around to face towards the parking lot, supporting him when he limped over the uneven sand, exhausted and yet calm in the presence of his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone,
> 
> that's it again. Another story finished. I wanted to say thank you to all of those who have sent kudos or comments, but also to all those quietly reading in the background enjoying the story. I hope I've given you entertainment and some time to escape your busy lives and let words capture you for a little while.
> 
> That being said, I hope you're all safe and healthy in this crazy time. Take care of yourselves and everyone around you!
> 
> Hope to see you soon :)


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